Defying Expectations
by Ocean-swimmer97
Summary: A girl who was to always do as she was told. A boy who was one of the most feared vampires in existence. She just wanted to be herself. He just wanted someone to see who he truly was. Together, they were going to defy expectations.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first Twilight FanFiction! Please read and review, although I won't be an author who stops writing because they don't have enough reviews! **

**Now, we don't learn much about Amara in this chapter, not even her name really. It will all be explained over the next few chapters. We do learn that she doesn't like her rich lifestyle though.**

**Disclaimer: This will be my disclaimer for the entire story, just saying. I own nothing you recognise!**

As far as I was concerned, this was just another holiday had that my obscenely rich and obnoxious parents decided to drag me on. I mean, the number of times we have been to Italy, and not once have I been allowed to explore or do my own thing. Granted, I was only fourteen, but I have an insane amount of body guards, not to mention a security tag on my phone. Honestly, you'd think I was a criminal with the amount of surveillance I had on me. Which is the exact reason I decided today would be the day, finally. Today would be the day I rebel. Today would be the day I would go exploring.

I woke up at six in the morning and quickly changed into some of my more comfortable outfits, which would hopefully help me remain inconspicuous as well. It took me roughly an hour to get completely ready, and so I'm out of the hotel-five star, naturally- at just gone seven o'clock. I have to seriously run to avoid anyone noticing me, or at least being able to get a good look at my face. The ferry boats are not too far from the hotel, luckily, and so I do not have to run for too long.

After roughly ten minutes of solid running, I reach the boats. An old, withered man sits in a small hut, head covered by a large fishing hat and a thick beard. Just as I near him, he looks up at me, and flashes me a toothy grin- or what would have been, had he had many teeth that weren't rotting.

"How you doin' love?" he asks me loudly. Clearly, he had hearing problems as well, if he felt theneed to speak at that noise level.

"I'm fine, thank you," I reply courteously, my slightly exaggerated manners shining through.

The old man nods at me and then gestures to the black notice board at his side. "Next trip is in 20 minutes," he states.

It's my turn to nod, and I examine the board next to him:

_Volterra – 0735_

"I guess I'll go there then," I say, and I hand him a generous wad of money.

The man blinks in surprise but quickly recovers. "Tad too much, love," he says bluntly, and then proceeds to just take the top note. I shrug my shoulders, take my ticket from him, and then take a seat on a bench to my left.

The minutes tick by slowly, with only the sound of the passing waves to keep me company. Them, and the old guy in the hut, who by the way, is now sleeping and snoring heavily.

Eventually, it reaches twenty-five to eight, and the boat taking me to Volterra arrives.

"Good morning," a woman with a black hair, a youthful face and a thick Italian accent greets me. "Are you going to Volterra?"

I nod silently and the woman moves to allow me onto the rather small boat. So much for a ferry.

"So," the Italian woman begins as we set off, "Where are your parents?" The looks she sends me instantly tells me that she believes I am meeting my family.

"I'm meeting them there," I reply, hoping it will rid her of any suspicion or ill feelings.

"Ah, I see," she replies lightly. Another few moments pass us by with neither of us saying a word.

"Um," I say, eager for the, in my opinion, damning silence to be over. "How long have you run these boat trips?"

The woman smiles at me and begins her story of how she started. Luckily, the story carries us all the way to Volterra, ensuring the silence does not make another appearance.

By midday, I am standing in the streets of Volterra, admiring its architecture and design. Hey, it was the way I was raised; nothing I can do about it now. The streets have a surprisingly medieval look to them, almost as if they were built that way. But that's not possible, I know. I mean, yes they could be the same buildings, but they would have to have been redone over time, or less they would have been completely destroyed by the most famous killer; time. Yet the houses look as though they have not had any work done, and appear to be in the same condition as the day they were first built. That's really weird.

With my brain and eyes assessing the remarkable streets, I fail to notice a group of eager, yet confused looking tourists, who are being led by a tragically beautiful girl. That is, I was until she came up to me, confused tourists in her wake, acting like lost puppies; following her every step, her every move.

"Can I help you?" I ask politely. She flashes me a dazzling smile and reaches out her leather-gloved hand for me to shake.

"Hello," she replies, although she has a light German accent, as opposed to the Italian one I had been expecting. "I'm Heidi Marvelli. I work for Touring-On-The-Go. We," she gestures to the puppies, "are heading to Volterra Palace. Would you be interested in joining?" Heidi flashes me another smile, obviously trying to win me over. As a matter of fact, it's actually doing the opposite.

I glance down at the tourist map in my hands. Volterra Palace? I checked the map several times, struggling to find a Volterra Palace. Something doesn't add up.

I look back up at the beautiful woman and smile in a hopefully apologetic manner. "I'm sorry; I don't have any money left."

The woman waves her hand as if it was nothing. "That's alright," she leans in closely to me, as if she were about to whisper a very important secret. "I won't tell anyone if you won't."

I chuckle along with Heidi, although me in a slightly more nervous manner than she. I move to the back of the group, knowing that if I didn't she would find a reason for me to come along anyway. Damn tourist guides.

We walk for just over ten minutes, when we reach a beautiful palace. It looked like something out of a fairy tale. The walls were high, with stain-glass windows dotted around them. The large oak doors opened before us, and Heidi led us into what must be a reception area. How could this possibly not be on the map?

The inside was much more modern than the outside, complete with an Apple iMac and a receptionist. The receptionist also had an array of leaflets, a few of which that caught my attention.

As I was at the back of the group, they didn't seem to notice too much when I held back to grab some of the leaflets. The next set of doors opened and the tourists went through, Heidi still in the lead. One look at the receptionist, _Gianna _as her name tag said, told me that I should have gone with them. I was really starting to worry now. What was going on?

The large double doors closed behind them before I could even move, and Gianna pushed a set of pink head phones into her ears. Only they weren't connected to anything.

My brain began working into overload to work out this seemingly endless puzzle. And that's when the screaming started.

**Review and favourite! See you in the next chapter!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh my goodness! I cannot believe the support from just the first chapter. Hopefully this one will live up to expectations! Sorry if there are any punctuation, spelling or grammar mistakes. I am really tired! **

The screams of the tourists echoes throughout the building, and causes me to completely freeze in shock. The only other noise I can hear sounds like an animal being hunted, and then killed. A few moments later I realise that that noise is coming from me. My breathing has become hitched and panty, like I was experiencing a panic attack. Which I probably am.

The resounding sound of the doors next to me being slammed open snap me out of my state of shock. With only a split-second to think, I do the very first thing that comes to mind. I run.

My legs run as fast as they can carry me, down the endless, winding hallways, across an indoor bridge, and down a spiral staircase. By this point, I have become so out of breath that I wouldn't be surprised if every person in all of Italy could hear me. My long brown hair is flying behind me, and my large brown eyes scan every door and window for a possible exit.

Suddenly, an excruciating pain settles on me. I collapse heavily onto the floor and roll around, trying to calm the pain. It feels like a thousand fires have been lit on my skin, turning me to nothing but charcoal. And then, just as suddenly as the pain came, it stopped.

Still recovering from the terrible pain, it takes me a while before I can even open my eyes. Eventually, I feel my eyelids begin to flutter open. The world is a blurry mess, with the windows I know to be there nothing but a blank spot. My eyes roam the room, trying to get everything to make sense again, and I notice a strange shape in the far end of the room. I can't tell what it is.

"Well, well," a high, girlish voice chimes. "Looks like the food is awake."

My eyes, after they had slid shut once more, snap open and I sit up quickly. A bit too quickly.

"Oww," I mumble quietly, placing my head in my shaking hands. Head rushes are killers.

The voice laughs, but it doesn't sound right. What I would expect to be a nice, jovial laugh coming from that voice is instead a cynical and slightly maniacal cackle. I look over to the corner again, and stare for a few moments so that my brain has enough time to catch up with the image my eyes are sending it.

Eventually, a figure begins to take form, and I'm not exactly sure whether to be surprised or not. A girl who can be no older than perhaps sixteen, is standing there with such a chilling smirk, it makes we want to crawl and hide under a rock. The girl has long blondish brown hair, but it most certainly does not look mousy; nothing about her is at all mousy. She is truly beautiful, in an angelic way. Everything about her is a… wrong.

Her general appearance isn't the main cause of my concern, however. It's her eyes. They are red. Blood red.

I can feel my blood pressure begin to rise, and from my position on the floor, I back up hastily until I hit the wall. The creature laughs again at my apparent panic and moves closer to me.

"Now, now," 'she' attempts to calm me, "I'm not going to hurt you…"

I try not to pay attention to the word we both know was left hanging in the air. 'Yet', she wasn't going to hurt me 'yet'.

"Jane, must you always play with your food before you eat it?" a velvety voice asks smoothly from one of the many doorways. From my position at the wall, I merely have to turn my head to see perhaps the most beautiful man, no person, in the entire world.

He, like this 'Jane', has blood red eyes, but this time I try not to focus on them. The rest of him has too much to offer. His brown hair falls gracefully into his eyes, his cheekbones high and defined, and lips, though not quite as full as Jane's, are still very nice. All my thoughts seem to scatter the second I notice this.

His gaze shifts from the blonde-haired demon to me, and his eyes travel the length of my body, or at least they would if I wasn't huddled up against the large stone wall.

"I didn't know we had ordered Meals-On-Wheels…" he muses sarcastically. Jane lets out a sharp chuckle, meeting his apparently twisted sense of humour.

"What do you want?" I finally ask, my voice croaky and hoarse from my previous screaming. Both sets of eyes snap back to me, with both containing mirth.

"Why did you come down here brother?" Jane asks the boy, who apparently is her brother. Oh, and she also ignored my question. Fan-bloody-tastic.

"Aro sent me to see what was taking so long. You may be one of the only guard members he actually feels concerns for."

Jane's back seems to straighten with pride, and she replies rather courteously, "And you, Alec."

Alec. So that's his name. And it most definitely suits him.

"Thank you sister," Alec nods in return. Suddenly, a new sense of courage overcomes me, be it bravery or recklessness. Or maybe it's a bit of both.

I clear my throat loudly, and actually manage to get to my feet. Jane is rather small compared to me, standing at around five foot, I would guess. Her brother, on the other hand, is quite a bit taller than my five foot seven frame. I'm placing my bet at around five foot ten or eleven.

"What?" Jane snaps at me irritably. Alec places a calming hand on her shoulder before turning back to me.

"You are to follow us," he says calmly, but with an underlying tone of authority. Clearly he was, or at least thought he was rather important here. And from the way they were just talking, I would take a guess his sister was also.

"And if I refuse?" I reply, trying to keep my tone just as calm and smooth as his, and also failing in the process.

Suddenly, he is behind me, tightly holding my arms behind my back, both of which feel like they are on the verge of snapping. Jane steps in front of me and a cruel smile lights up her face.

"It wasn't a request."

They both lead me quickly back to the reception. The receptionist, Gianna, spares a quick glance at me, but upon seeing who is accompanying my, turns her head back down to her paperwork once more.

Jane forcefully pushes open the large oak doors and gracefully steps into the middle of the room. Alec leads me inside and then pushes me so that I was on my knees. I look up again to see him standing a bit away with his devil sister.

"Ah," a man with long black hair says, "You are the girl who ran."

What on earth does he mean by that?

"I'm sorry?" I ask him confusedly. I quickly take in the rest of the room, and guess there to be at least fifteen people in the room. All of whom, I should note, have pale skin and red eyes.

"That's quite alright dear," he replies, mistaking my question for an apology. Although, by the strange glint in his eyes, I doubt that is the case.

The man moves away from the blonde and brunette men who were at his side, and circles around my probably pathetic looking position on the floor. He hmm's and ah's to himself for a few seconds before quickly appearing by the two men again.

"My dear, welcome to Volterra," he smiles warmly and reaches his hand down to grab mine. What the bloody hell is going on here? I thought I was coming for a rebellious day out.

Hesitantly, I place my hand in the man's, and try not to gasp in shock when he brings it closer to his body, almost greedily. His milky red eyes search mine thoroughly, and then all over my body. This time I feel the need to repress a shiver. This man is off the scale creepy.

Apparently satisfied, although I have no idea why, he releases my hand, allowing me to cradle it in my spare one.

"What am I doing here? What are you going to do to me?"

"My darling girl," he begins, a feral grin spreading across his face, "You are here to join the Volturi."

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	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks again to those who responded to the last chapter! Let's keep the reviews coming!**

For a moment, it feels as though my heart has ceased beating. Not a sound can be heard; not even the sound of someone breathing. Everyone has literally frozen like statues, and if it wasn't for the incessant shaking of my hands, I would assume that time had come to a complete stand-still.

"What…" I begin weakly, "What's the Vol- Volturi?"

Laughter so sinister it could curdle milk escapes the black-haired man's throat and those around him begin to chuckle as well. Well, those except for the two men at his sides. One looks like he wishes he was anywhere else, and the other just keeps glaring at me like I was the very bane of his existence.

"Why," the sinister one begins, "we are!"

My heart practically jumps out of my chest, and an overwhelming feeling of nausea overcomes me. Every face-albeit very beautiful faces- hold either a smirk or what I would classify as an evil grin. There were some though, that were looking at me like I was their next snack. Which I probably am.

"O-okay…" I stutter, gazing fixedly on the blood-stained marble floor beneath me. "Why do you want me to join you, then?"

The leader seems to stand even straighter in that moment, which I'm not sure is even possible. The rest of the inhabitants of the room stare at him, almost in worship. It's almost like he is their God… almost. Clearly they wanted to know what was running through his terrifying mind as well.

"Ah," he breathes, although it looks almost forced, "now we have reached the crux of the matter. You see, my dear, we are rather… different from most people. Can you take a guess at how?"

I freeze like a dear in headlights, never being one for attention. Quickly, I rack my brain for any kind of explanation that is at all feasible. What do I know about them?

One: They… eat people.

Two: They are all indescribably beautiful.

Three: They were obviously very fast if that girl could catch up with me.

With these facts running through my head, one word quite literally pops into my brain. One word that explains it all. Vampire. After all, what other creature manages to consume a person without actually eating the body?

"Vampire…" I whisper, eyes still fixated on the floor. I hear the shuffling of steps and see the young girl moving to stand next to her master, her brother positioning himself on the other side of her.

"Very good," the leader praises, practically cooing at me, "very observant. Now, all that is left is to decide what we shall do with you."

A frown crosses my features. "I thought you wanted me to join you?" I ask, phrasing it as more of a question than a statement.

He uncharacteristically shrugs, and before I can even blink, is sitting back in that large throne of his, legs crossed and hand supporting his head.

"That is one idea, child. But you see, that is the thing. You are only a child. Really, you are too young for this life." His fingers drum against the rest of his chair. "Hmm, decisions, decisions."

The cold, pale-haired man sits back lazily into his throne also. "She knows. She is a liability."

"You know what you wish to do, Aro," drawls the other man, who has to be at least thirty years old. Physically at least.

Aro pouts like a child who was told Christmas has been cancelled. "Shame. Felix, Demetri."

Two men, one very large in structure, the other very lean, grab me by the arms and force me to the floor. An almost unnoticeable nod from Aro confirms my suspicions and fears. They were about to kill me.

"Wait!" I cry, panicking. "If it is my age that is the problem, why don't you wait to make me… join?"

Aro's eyes light up and he claps his hands excitedly. "Brilliant!" he exclaims.

The middle-aged leader stands in front of me, and Felix and Demetri return to their previous positions on the sides of the room. He is taller than Aro, which makes me feel even more fearful, if that is at all possible.

"You shall return," he says slowly, milky red eyes gazing deeply into mine, "in five years' time. A small group shall retrieve you. Until then, you must not speak a word to anyone about us. The consequences may be… severe, for both you and those you tell."

I can feel my head nodding quickly, with no consent from my mind. Unadulterated fear does that to a person.

"Go now!" shouts the last leader, blonde hair hanging in his eyes.

I scramble to my feet and make my way to the door as quick as possible. Just before I open the door to leave, Aro asks one final question.

"But what is your name, my dear?"

I turn back around slowly, and gulp loudly. "Amara. Amara Potter."

The journey back to the villa is too mundane, too normal for my liking. I mean, I was just cornered by vampires and told that five years from now, I would become one too! Forgive me for finding everything else too ordinary. It's almost like they are mocking me, showing how they will remain normal while I jump to the complete opposite end of the spectrum.

The next few weeks pass uneventfully, although I am almost positive I see a few of the Volturi members lurking outside the villa a few times. Each time I blame it on my over-active imagination, and many of the workers at the villa can hear me grumbling about 'stupid blood-sucking leeches'.

My mother and father, Clarissa and Charles Potter, do not seem to even notice a slight difference in me, even though I am pretty sure a frown has become a permanent fixture to my facial features. Really, it just goes to show how much attention they pay to me.

We return to England after a month in Italy, and I have never been more relieved to be back home. I don't know why, I guess it just feels safer. Like nothing has changed at all.

My room is still a light blue, with a high ceiling, crystal chandelier and a walk-in wardrobe. My battered teddy bear sits in the centre of my king-sized bed, looking thoroughly out of place. As I go to sit on my bed, I reach for the bear and clutch it tightly to my pounding chest. It signifies my childhood, my humanity, both of which I cling desperately onto.

Bertha, an old woman who has worked tirelessly for my family for nearly fifty years, opens my door, knocking gently as she does so. Just the sight of her causes me to start crying. I drop my teddy and run over to her, watching her face change from an expression of shock, to one of motherly love and concern.

"My, my," she murmurs into my ear, hugging me to her small, warm body. "Whatever is the matter, dear?"

I shake my head against her neck, my tears rolling down my face and dropping silently onto her creamy skin. This wasn't fair, I couldn't leave her. Her own daughter had left her to marry some piece of scum. I didn't want to leave her too.

"Now we'll have none of that," she chastises gently, pulling me far enough away from her to wipe away the tears with her white cotton sleeve.

A small smile appears shyly on my face, and I laugh gently. Even when she was telling me off, even if it was to comfort me, she did it so nicely; you couldn't help but feel happier and comforted.

We stayed that way for a long while, just talking and hugging and sobbing, although the last one was mainly me. I refused to tell her what the matter was every time she asked. If I believe what that man said to me, which I do, not only would I be hurt, she would be too. We may be even killed, something which I did not want to even think about.

I go to sleep early that night, feeling drained from crying and a tiring plane ride. I could swear though, that just as I pulled my curtains before I went to bed, I saw a pale figure sitting in the large tree outside, watching.


End file.
